Something Imaginary
by JoeyBear1424
Summary: My birth is nothing more than a story now—legend in some races. Told around fires to children to scare them and keep them from going out at night. As far as they know I am nothing more than a fairy tale with a dark twist. Something imaginary. I was something that lived in nightmares. And I didn't mind it continuing to be that way. It would have continued to be that way were it no
1. Prologue

The night of my birth was a bloodbath. Filled with screams and tears from my mother who begged the midwives to get me out and make this pain stop. The water in the basins was stained a pinkish red as the midwives attending my mother ran back and forth. Over and over the water was changed but there wasn't a moment it wasn't stained by blood. The midwives worked over my mother and shared frantic looks as they realized the horror of what had happened. Detached placenta one said as another urged my mother to push. The towels and sheets were stained crimson as my mother screamed, her knuckles white as she held onto them with a death grip. And then there was a sigh of relief as a cry pierced the air, a baby's wail that seemed to shake the very foundation of the house.

If anyone from that night was still alive, my mother or the midwives I can only imagine the horrors they would tell. The others in the village said there was sudden, sharp screams coming from the house, desperate and pleading. Screams from my mother and the midwives who shouted for someone, anyone to help them and then slowly one by one, the screams dissolved into silence. The baby's wailing had continued and then finally someone had approached the room and with a shaking hand opened the door. The creature that came out of the room was indescribable. A mass of dark fur, growling and snarling as it tore the brave soul who'd dared to open the door's throat out. There was a moment of silence and then the creature was running for the village. Behind him came an onslaught of monsters. All of them growling, bearing teeth, snarling and roaring as they spilled blood on the ground. The only other sound above all the screams, pleading and begging for help is the continuous sound of the baby wailing.

Perhaps it was coincidence that on that night a man clad in gray robes heard the screams and scooped up me up from the blood soaked sheets where I lay. My cries were soothed as he ran past the monsters and soon we were riding away from them. If either one of us had looked back we would have seen the monsters and creatures dissolving away as my cries stopped. There were no traces of their existence except for the corpses they'd left behind that decorated the land.

* * *

><p>Most of the ride was spent sleeping in the man's arms who continuously glanced over his shoulder. He shot those nervous looks over his shoulder the entire ride until finally he stopped the horse and dismounted. There were no monsters following us. No creatures like he'd ever seen before. Just the land we'd passed in his hurry to deliver the child here.<p>

"What gift do you come bearing me Mithrandir?" A melodious voice asked and he turned to face a tall, elegant woman with long, flowing golden hair.

"A child," The man sighed and revealed the bundle to her. "I was passing by a remote village that was under attack and managed to save her."

"Were there no other survivors?" She asked.

"I'm afraid not," He sighed. "It seems that everyone else was slaughtered but this child."

"Were you pursued?" She looked over his shoulder and raised a slender eyebrow. "I find it strange that these creatures would slaughter an entire village yet leave a child unharmed."

"You believe she had something to do with it?" The man asked bemused.

"I would not rule out that this child has abilities beyond her knowledge," The woman said. "It is a possibility that whoever this child is—whatever this child is, they carry some great power. Please, allow me?" She held her arms out and the man carefully handed me over.

"I do not understand how a child could conjure such creatures." The man mumbled to himself.

"Nor do I. And I don't believe this child does either." She leaned down and pressed a gentle, careful kiss to my forehead. "Do not fear Mithrandir. Someday she will understand. Until then we will watch over the young Glemeril." And with that she turned and walked away.

* * *

><p>There were not bloodbaths after my birth. There was blood though. The Lady of Light who I would come to call naneth watched over me during the days and took care of me. Someone stood by to record what happened, what creatures appeared and when. It was discovered when I whimpered they could be seen preparing to take form. It was not until I was wailing and inconsolable did they take full form and became the snarling, vicious beasts that had caused so much bloodshed. When I was soothed, tears stopped and whimpers calmed, the monsters disappeared. After the first incident when someone was nearly bitten, precautions had to be taken. Rooms were created and escape routes prepared in case of emergencies. My first few years were filled with many emergencies.<p>

As I grew up rules were given to me. I was taught to control my temper and saw what would happen when I didn't. The first time I saw the large, black furry mass before me I had stared in fear at the creature. It watched me with curiosity, its head cocked as my tears slowly stopped. I had been reaching out with a hesitant hand to run over its furred head when the creature disappeared.

"Do you see why you must control yourself Glemeril?" I turned around to my mother standing there.

"It looked at me." I muttered and turned back towards where the creature had been moments ago.

"Yes it did," She agreed and stood me up. "Although I like it better when you're safe away from the mouth of dangerous creatures."

I suppose now that it's a good thing I was never a particularly curious child growing up. I didn't ask many questions. And when I did, they could generally be answered with yes or no. When the creatures appeared I thought perhaps I was dreaming. Or perhaps these creatures were lost and had simply stumbled into our world.

Had I known in my young years that it was me who was causing these things I probably would have controlled myself more. I would have behaved myself better and perhaps tried to control my temper better, had fewer tantrums. Had I known this in my younger years I would have been much different.

And I suppose if I hadn't known that all of those who had been witness to my birth; the midwives, my mother, the people who'd heard my cries had been slaughtered. I suppose then that I wouldn't be controlled by fear. But that was just an assumption.

* * *

><p>My birth is nothing more than a story now—legend in some races. Told around fires to children to scare them and keep them from going out at night. As far as they know I am nothing more than a fairy tale with a dark twist. Something imaginary. I was something that lived in nightmares. And I didn't mind it continuing to be that way. It would have continued to be that way were it not for my mother and a certain wizard. I hear her voice in my head now, slightly amused as I stare at my empty pack.<p>

"Mithrandir is awaiting you," She reminds me. "You really should get going."

"I should," I agree. "Though I don't know anything about this quest nor do you."

"My knowledge is as limited as yours." She agrees and then her hand comes to rest on my shoulder. "But perhaps it is time the rest of the world be allowed to discover you are more than just a story Glemeril."

"Very well naneth." I reach for my pack. "Inform Mithrandir I am ready to let people know my legend is very much alive."

* * *

><p>So I'm currently doing this with the Lord of the Rings but decided I wanted to also do it with the Hobbit and play around with this character I've created here. I don't know I'll pair her with. I'll let people vote and tell me who they wish to see her with. So go ahead, review, vote. And all that. I also found it kinda funny that my character's name means Echo<p>

Glemeril: Echo

Naneth: Mother.


	2. Unexpected Visitors

If any hobbits in the Shire looked up at the sky at this particular time they would notice the crow that kept circling, its harsh bark echoing off the rolling green hills. Their gazes aren't on the crow circling relentlessly but on me as I walk. The children stare at me with interest, their eyes wide as they share looks of shocked wonder. Mothers fret and worry, pulling their children towards the door of their houses. Fathers cast shadows of doubt on me as they meet their wives at the doorway, brows drawn in concern.

"But mama she has ears like us," I hear one child say as her mother pulls her inside. I'd never seen hobbits before, my interactions limited to those of the elves that helped raise me. They carried the same pointed, leaf shaped ears of my race but that's where the similarities stopped. From the short glimpses I'd caught these hobbits were short, round around their middle and sporting a headful of curly hair. Their enormous feet are bare, the tops covered with a thick, downy fur.

One hobbit in particular stands on her doorstep and glares at me, her thin arms crossed over her chest. Her pinched face is drawn into a look of a disgust as she stares me down. I stop short and stare at her. Overhead the crow slows its circling.

"Might I ask what you're staring at?" She narrows her eyes.

"What business have you in the Shire?" She demands.

"Now that's quite rude of you," I drawl. "You're the one staring at me and when I ask a simple question you stick your nose in some business that's not your own." Her cheeks color with fury as she lifts an umbrella.

"No business of mine," The woman shrieks. "You're an elf in the Shire, what business have you here?" She takes a step towards me and the crow descends with a harsh cry. The woman lets out another shriek, her arms flying up in an attempt to defend herself as the crow flaps its wings angrily in her face.

"Shoo," The woman screams. "Shoo you miserable bird!" The crow lets out another cry as she stumbles backwards. The crow is relentless in its attack until the woman flaps her arms at the bird and with an irritated cry slams the door of her house. The crow lets out a satisfied trill then resumes its circling as I begin walking again.

"Now that was rude as well," I look overhead at the crow. "But I cannot say I disagree with it." As the crow turns its head I swear there's a gleam in its beady eyes. It continues its circling until we arrive at the designated meeting house. I stare at the green door then back at the crow who now rests on the fence post.

It could almost pass as a normal crow. Except for it was much too large. Twice the size of a normal crow, its feathers fluffing up when it was angered. Its cries were loud and harsh, bordering on a shriek sometimes. Its beady eyes stare at me expectantly, head cocked as we watch each other.

"Thank you for your services but I think it'd be best did you remain hidden for now." The crow lets out a final cry as I close my eyes and inhale slowly. The crow on the fence post slowly disappears bit by bit. Its feet turn a bright white that creeps its way up the rest of its body. When I open my eyes once more, the feathers are there floating in the air before they too disappear. With a satisfied smile I turn back towards the door and knock.

The hobbit that answers has a round face which currently wears a somewhat irritated expression that melts into startled. His curls are a light, coppery brown and his eyes a deep chocolate that gaze at me in confusion as we stare at each other in silence.

"Hello," He finally manages. "You're an elf."

"Indeed I am," I agree dryly. "Glemeril—it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure to meet you as well. Would you like to come inside? I'm in the middle of supper if you're hungry." I step inside his house, ducking my head as I do so before I turn and look at him once more.

"Well you know my name but I don't know yours," The hobbit in question blushes and fumbles to close up his patchwork robe as he stares at me.

"Oh, my apologies," He stutters. "Bilbo Baggins. Now please Lady Glimerel come into the dining room and have some food." I follow after him and watch a bit amused as he fusses and worries. He's at the stove putting some food onto a plate for me when he finally speaks again.

"Are you from Rivendell?" Bilbo's voice is curious. "My mother travelled there once."

"I am not from Rivendell though I have been before. I hail from Lothlórien." Bilbo opens his mouth but is cut off by a bell ringing. His face pales a bit as he looks from me towards the door.

"Oh dear, another visitor," Bilbo frets. "Please excuse me Lady Glemeril." He moves out of the dining room still mumbling about unexpected visitors. I stare at the hobbit as he moves from the room, taking in his well-worn patchwork robe and furrowed brow. I couldn't see this small creature in the face of danger, whatever sort of danger we were being dragged into. My suspicions are heightened as I hear what sounds like a startled squeak from Bilbo. It's a few moments of mostly muted conversation before the unexpected visitor joins me in the dining room.

A dwarf clothed in armor and furs stops and stares at me with a sour expression. He's bald, his scalp decorated with rune tattoos. His fists are clad with knuckle dusters and there's a vicious look in his eyes as his mustache twitches. Thickly muscled with broad shoulders and the axes strapped to his back, he screams of a possible threat to me. We regard each other with sour, cautious expressions as Bilbo rejoins us. He looks back and forth between the two of us, clearing his throat as he gestures between us.

"Ah—Lady Glemeril this is," Bilbo stops as a blush creeps up his cheeks. "I'm sorry what did you say your name was?"

"Dwalin," His voice is a deep growl. "Gandalf didn't inform us that a woman would be joining us. And an elf at that."

"Gandalf didn't inform me that hobbits are such nosy creatures. I must say it is a lucky thing I found Mister Baggins here. Else I would still be outside in the cold, being threatened with an umbrella by a miserable cow of a woman who insists on sticking her nose where it doesn't belong." Bilbo lets out a nervous laugh and I see a flash of recognition in his eyes at my words. Dwalin doesn't speak though his lips twitch as he takes Bilbo's seat and begins eating.

Bilbo resigns himself to looking on in horror as Dwalin devours his dinner. The poor hobbit looks ready to faint as he bites the head off the fish, humming appreciatively.

"Very good this," Dwalin grumbles. "Anymore?" Poor Bilbo looks ready to faint as he mumbles a response and offers him a plate of muffins. Dwalin once more grabs handfuls, stuffing them into his mouth.

"Here you are Bilbo," I hold out the roll that has been sitting untouched on my plate. "Your hospitality is greatly appreciated."

"Oh," Bilbo hesitates, his hand hovering over the roll. "I couldn't take your food."

"I've had plenty," I promise him and shove the roll into his hand. "I thank you for dinner." As Bilbo wraps his hand around the roll the bell rings once more.

"That'll be the door." Dwalin mutters and it's with a paling face that our host exits, leaving me alone with this stranger.

"Does your father know you're out here lassie?" Dwalin's tone is sarcastic. "Surely he wouldn't approve of you sharing meals with a hobbit and wandering about the Shire alone."

"Perhaps he wouldn't was he not in the ground. I assume that he's rolling over in his grave right now." Something in Dwalin's eyes shift and he doesn't say anything, standing and moving towards an unsupervised jar of cookies. I look towards the window where an insistent tapping comes. The crow is back again, pecking at the window angrily, its beady eyes staring at Dwalin. I look towards Dwalin's back who stands trying to shake cookies out a jar. The crows' tapping grows more irritable, demanding to be let in. And I wonder for the millionth time what exactly the wizard has in store for me.

* * *

><p>JollyLoser: I hope you enjoyed this chapter and continue to read more.<p>

So I'm on Thanksgiving break for the rest of this week and I am so relieved. My inbox is currently flooded with things from Fanfiction and AO3 because I've had so little time to write. And in case people are wondering I have somewhat an idea of who her father will be...Like a very, very vauge idea. But it will either be him or an original male character. I don't know yet. And I don't know who I'm pairing her with so please let me know who you'd like to see her with.


	3. Nothing to Lose

Bilbo returns with a disgruntled expression and yet another new guest. This one wears long red robes and has a sweeping snow white beard that end in forked points. His face is lined with wrinkles that speak of his age and the smile on his face is a kind one as he makes his way into the room. He and Dwalin exchange greetings including a rather loud and painful sounding head-butt that makes Bilbo pale a bit and look at me almost pleadingly.

"Are you quite all right?" I ask as he takes a deep breath.

"Dwarves," Bilbo breathes and waves a hand towards Dwalin and the newcomer. "And an elf in my house."

"I can't help you with the dwarves though I can tell you that I was summoned here by Gandalf."

"Gandalf sent you?" The white haired dwarf looks at me expectantly.

"Indeed he did. Glemeril at your service master dwarf." I incline my head and earn a somewhat tight smile from the dwarf.

"Balin at your service lass." He turns back towards Dwalin and together the two of them move towards the pantry.

"Do you have any idea why Gandalf has summoned you here?" Bilbo demands.

"No I don't. Other than he's gotten an idea in his head that you and I would like to partake in an adventure."

"An adventure?" Bilbo cries and lifts a finger. "No, no. Absolutely not. I told him this morning—I told that blasted wizard. Excuse me." He turns back towards the pantry as the bell rings once more. The bell goes ignored by Bilbo as he lectures the two dwarves in the pantry so I take it upon myself to answer the round green door.

Two dwarves stand on the doorstep. One is blonde with a smirk on his face. There's a clear gleam of youth in his eye as the mustache braids hanging by his lips twitch. The other is dark haired and lacks a beard. Instead he has a thick patch of stubble on his face and wears a deep scowl, his brow furrowed as he stares at me.

"Fili," The blonde one says.

"And Kili," The dark one says.

"At your service." The two bow in unison and when they straighten back up they're wearing twin smiles on their faces, all traces of seriousness gone.

"We were promised a hobbit by the name of Mister Boggins but I must say a maiden as fair as you are even an elf maiden will suffice as well." Kili winks at me.

"I agree brother even if she lacks a beard those fierce eyes will make up for it," Fili nudges his brother. "May we have your name fair maiden?"

"I don't know if my husband should like that very much," I drawl and look over my shoulder. "Bilbo dear we've some more visitors." I almost begin laughing at the paling faces of the two dwarves who share looks of horror as Bilbo comes to the door.

"We're so sorry Mister Boggins," Fili says as Bilbo comes into sight. "We had no idea."

"We really didn't," Kili agrees. "Or else we wouldn't have said those things." The two bow again.

"It's okay," Bilbo says confusedly. "Whatever are you apologizing for?"

"It's not important," Kili says and throws me a pleading look as he shoves his way in the door. "Nice place you got here." Bilbo stands by with a stunned look as the two practically dance around him until they're dragged away by Dwalin.

"What did you do them?" Bilbo asks then holds up his hands. "Never mind I don't really wish to know." He moves back towards the dwarves now shoving things into the hallway. I chuckle and take a seat on the floor, watching as the poor hobbit as yet another ring comes. I go for the door just as Bilbo rounds a corner, dumping an armful of weapons onto the floor.

"Oh no," Bilbo cries. "We don't want any more visitors." But it's too late as I pull the door open and a pile of dwarves spills into his house, landing at our feet. There are groans and grumbles from the group who all struggle to untangle themselves. I don't notice them however. They're white noise as I stare towards the figure leaning down to peer into the house.

"Running late Gandalf?" I ask and the wizard chuckles, his eyes twinkling at me.

"I'm not running late my dear," Gandalf smiles. "I'm right on time and it seems you even arrived a little bit early."

"Yes I did. Now will you tell me why on earth you've pulled me from Lothlórien and into a hobbit's home?"

"I will my dear girl. Won't you take a walk with me?" I move around the still grumbling pile of dwarves and outside, closing the door behind me with a quiet click. Gandalf leads me towards a stone bench in front of the house, gesturing for me to sit down.

"I see you were followed," He chuckles and I look up to see the crow staring at him with beady eyes. "He gave Glóin quite a good pecking."

"Did he do something to deserve it?" I ask and shoo the bird away.

"He startled the poor bird and it gave him a lesson about shouting in the dark of night," Gandalf chuckles then turns serious. "Did any other of your creations follow you?"

"No just my crow friend," I promise him. "I locked him up in my mind but when I met one of the members of your dear company he returned."

"I will never understand what goes on in your mind my dear girl." Gandalf says though not unkindly.

"It's just a precaution Gandalf—something to keep me company as I travel."

"I fear that your creations will not be able to make an appearance while we travel. You will be limited to your bow until these dwarves and Mister Baggins can wrap their heads around the idea." Gandalf warns.

"I can control myself. And I suppose I will suffer with the company of these dwarves and a hobbit until my creations can play."

"I know that you fear some of them. I know you fear the wolf." Gandalf says gently.

"Don't speak to me about the wolf. The wolf nearly destroyed everything. That thing stays locked up in the darkest recesses of my mind." I hiss.

"I know." He sighs and wraps an arm around my shoulder.

"What have you brought me along for Gandalf?" I ask.

"These dwarves intend to march into the mountain. The Lonely Mountain to be exact. It is their home taken from them by a dragon by the name of Smaug."

"How do a hobbit and I come to play in this?" Gandalf smiles deeply at me.

"We need a hobbit for burglar purposes. And there are many a foul creatures on the road we could possibly face. But they've seen the likes of your creatures."

"Indeed," I agree dryly. "Shall we rejoin the others?" Gandalf stands and we begin the short trek back towards Bag End.

"Two of these dwarves believe Mister Baggins and I are married," I say as we reach the door. "Just play along with it Gandalf." And together we step back inside; the crow once more disappeared in a white glow.

Bilbo's house is in chaos when we return. Dwarves seem to be occupying every corner and space as they steal food from every available shelf in the pantry. One dwarf cradles four blocks of cheese to himself protectively, another carries a platter of ham.

"Not going to eat?" Gandalf asks as I stand back.

"Already ate and brought myself some Lembas. Besides I'd much rather watch this." I say as a dwarf with silver hair twisted into complicated braids comes up to us.

"Mister Gandalf? Could I tempt you with a cup of chamomile?" His eyes flicker towards me and widen with recognition. "Oh, you're Mister Baggins wife! Would you like some tea?"

"Oh, no thank you Dori. A little red wine for me I think." The dwarf looks expectantly at me.

"No thank you." My eyes flicker around the room towards Fili and Kili. The two lean towards another dwarf who sports a bowl cut and knitted mittens, clutching a journal to his chest. When they notice my stares Fili and Kili pull away and sit up straight while the dwarf with the mittens flushes bright red.

"Interesting company Gandalf," I sit down in a corner and watch as the dinner begins. "Very interesting company."

These dwarves have no care for manners or properness. They throw food, shovel it into their mouths, reach across the table to steal food off other's plates and Fili goes as far as to walk across the table offering ales. They chug said ales and don't seem to notice or mind as they drip down into their beards. They belch loudly and applaud the bowl cut haired dwarf as he beats the others.

"Didn't know you had it in you." A star haired one snorts. The food has diminished to nothing more than scraps and most of the dwarves pick up plates and begin to move out of the dining room. Fili and Kili are one of the dwarves who remain at the table, whispering to the bowl cut haired dwarf and nudging him. Finally he bats them off and marches over to me, clutching his journal tightly to his chest.

"Miss Glemeril," He opens up his journal. "How did you meet Mister Baggins and are you going to be joining our company?" I gesture for him to lean closer and smirk as I put my lips at his ear.

"Your friends are quite nosy and quite gullible it seems. And yes it seems I will be joining this little adventure of yours." A slow smile spreads across the dwarf's face as he covers his mouth with a mitten clad hand.

"Have you already signed the contract? Mister Balin has it if you need to—my names Ori." He gives me a final bow and grabs his plate and moves towards the doorway where Bilbo stands. I nod towards Balin who sits at the head of the table.

"I need to sign a contract it would seem."

"Aye lass you do." He pulls out a thick contract and hands it over to me. I don't bother with reading over the words and whatever they promise me at the end of this journey. I barely even look at the line as I sign my name and hand it back to him.

"Welcome to the company of Thorin Oakenshield," Balin gives me a timid smile. "But you didn't read any of it."

"I've nothing to lose so what is some treasure or a lost limb to me?" I smile at the dwarf. "Besides from what I've heard your leader will object me on this quest so best I sign myself up before he can object."

"Aye perhaps you should." Balin agrees and turns back towards the other dwarves who have begun to stomp their feet and clack their silverware together. I return to my seat and watch as a hatted dwarf begins in a teasing tone.

"Oh, did you hear that lads? He said we'll blunt the knives." He winks at the others who all begin laughing. Bilbo stands in the doorway with an irritated expression as the dwarves begin to sing.

"Blunt the knives and bend the forks!

Smash the bottles and burn the corks!

Chip the glasses and crack the plates!

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates

Cut the cloth and trail the fat!

Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!

Pour the milk on the pantry floor!

Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;

Pound them up with a thumping pole;

And when you've finished, if they are whole,

Send them down the hall to roll!

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

Dishes are tossed through the air, juggled between the dwarves. One of the dwarves uses a teapot as an instrument while another bounces dishes off his elbows. At the end of their song the dishes are stacked on the table intact and Bilbo stands with a shocked expression as Gandalf and the dwarves chuckle. The joyful mood is cut short by three short, sharp knocks on the door. Gandalf turns his gaze towards Bilbo, his blue eyes somber as he utters three words.

"He is here."

* * *

><p>The dwarves gather in the doorway behind Gandalf and watch with eager faces as he opens the door. Another dwarf stands in the doorway. His hair is long, thick, ebony colored streaked with silver that hangs down his back that matches his beard. His shoulders are adorned with a fur coat and his eyes are a sharp, piercing blue.<p>

"Gandalf," The man sighs. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door." His eyes scan the room, stopping as they land on me. His shoulders tense and he turns towards Gandalf.

"Ah," Gandalf smiles sheepishly. "Thorin Oakenshield please allow me to introduce Miss Glemeril. She's the daughter of a very dear friend of mine, Lady Galadriel."

"We did not agree to have an elf on this quest. I don't care who she's the daughter of Gandalf." Thorin glares at him.

"It's no use arguing about it. She's already signed the contract and is a part of this company. If you allow her to prove herself then you may be surprised." Gandalf says firmly and gives him a level stare. Thorin turns towards Balin who shrugs helplessly.

"She has already signed." Balin agrees and Thorin sighs.

"I will prove myself to you in due Thorin Oakenshield given the chance. Now if you'll excuse me." I incline my head and step past him. Behind me I hear Thorin begin to question Bilbo. I step out into the cool night air and sigh as it hits my skin. I go back to the bench where I sat with Gandalf earlier.

I don't know how long I'm out there, looking up at the sky and admiring the hobbit's gardens when the voices start to sing. Shortly after that Bilbo comes out of his home, a troubled look on his face as he adjusts his patchwork robe. He sits next to me and sighs, clutching his head between his hands.

"They want me to be their burglar and face down a dragon. I can't sign that contract. I just can't." He stares at me with a thoughtful look then sighs. "You signed it quite freely and said you'd nothing to lose. What did you mean by that?"

"There was an elf in Lothlórien named Mírdan. It was funny because the others tended to not avoid me but—they were nervous around me. I remember Mírdan coming to me one night when I looking at the sky and just kneeling next to me. He wasn't nervous or scared or anything. We didn't say a word to each other either. We just kneeled there and watched the stars."

"Whenever I had the chance we would both go into the deepest parts of the forest. Far away from everyone else and just talk. Eventually we started courting and I can't tell you how happy I was. My parents approved of him though he was a bit intimidated by my mother. And the best was his parents approved of me."

"What happened to him?" Bilbo asks and I wince.

"There was an accident. We would go into the deepest parts of the forest and play hide and seek as ridiculous as that sounds. I remember being up in the tree and looking down at him. The wolf—it just came out of nowhere and I remember screaming: Mírdan look out. But that wolf got him. It got me too when I tried to help him."

"He's alive but he walks with the help of a cane and gets tired very quickly. I carry scars on my back from that day. I looked at him and his leg was torn and my back was bleeding and I asked him what do I do? I'm scared. He just looked at me and asked me to take him home because he was scared too."

"His parents wanted us to end the courtship because they felt it was my fault. Well we continued it for a while. But guilt's a very poisonous thing in a courtship. And eventually our courtship just dissolved. We're friends now and I think he still holds out some hope that we will be more than friends someday. I kind of hope so too but I know too that the reality of that is highly unlikely."

"The night I left he was standing there with his cane and smiling at me. He told me that he would be waiting there in that exact spot for me when I got back. I told him I don't know how long this will take. And he teased me saying it's a damn good thing we got all this time my lady. If I make it back Bilbo I make it back. And I may be a little bit richer but I will still be without Mírdan. And who knows? He might not be there in that exact spot when I get back."

"I'm not quite sure what to say here. I'm sorry for what happened—I've had experience with wolves before." Bilbo says apologetically.

"Nasty creatures to run into. If you do go I'm not sure what we'll run into though I can promise that you will be able to lean on me do you need someone."

"Well thank you." Bilbo gives me a grateful smile. "I doubt that I'll go but if I do than you have someone too long as you're not reckless. I may be part Took but I'm not sure how much reckless I can handle."

"I can't promise that I won't be reckless at times." I stand up and stretch. "Would you mind showing me to a guest room?"

"Oh, of course," Bilbo stands and together we make our way towards his home. "If you don't mind my asking that hair comb—was it a courting gift?" I touch the comb that holds my long hair away my face.

"Yes it was. I have several in fact." I pull the one I currently wear out and hand it over to Bilbo. This ones in the shape of a bird, decorated with delicate pearls. Bilbo stares at it in wonder and smiles gently as he hands it back to me.

"I hope ot see you tomorrow Mister Baggins." I say as we reach the guest bedroom.

"I don't think I can sign the contract. I really don't." He says firmly and shakes his head.

"Well now what kind of husband would you be to allow your wife to go out into the wild like that?" Bilbo's eyes widen as he stutters and demands to know what I mean. I simply smile and whisper a goodnight as I close the door.

* * *

><p>Thank you so much to The-Dark-Love-Writer, basketball4444 and Kuroppoi Kitsune for the follows and favorites! They are greatly appreciated!<p>

Tommy14: I started writing her character and she demanded to be sassy

CrazyFanGirl18: I think I will. I like the Lord of the Rings but the Hobbit is my thing. And I'm really enjoying playing aorund with this character so far. She reminds me of Mrs. Lovett and so far has been a very smart ass, sarcastic character around the company. But I want to see her on the road. She demanded to be sassy when I started writing but we'll see what she says when we start writing the next chapter.

Again there's no specific pairing yet. Let me know what you think as the story progresses and we get more character interaction of who you would like to see her paired with. Also guys I feel horrifically ill right now so if there are mistakes I am sorry but I can't fix it right now now. Tell me if you see em and I'll get them later.

Mírdan: Jewel smith


	4. The World Ahead

I awake early the next morning to the smells of bacon frying and soft whispers floating down the hallway. I reach for my bag and grab a hair comb and brush. My long dark hair is swept back and away from my face, held in place by the comb. I pat it a couple times to make sure it will remain steady before rising from the bed and, slipping my boots on and moving down the hallway.

I step over the dwarves still sleeping in the living room and into the dining room where I find the plump dwarf from last night along with Gandalf, Ori and Balin. Balin nods his head at me and points towards a plate of food waiting.

"Good morning lass. Better eat and fill your stomach for we won't be stopping until late tonight." I incline my head and sit down at the far end of the table. Ori looks at me curiously, his journal clutched tightly in his hands as he lifts a quill.

"Do you care if I ask you some questions Lady Glemeril?" I pretend not to see Gandalf's smirk as I shake my head.

"Ask away."

"Well how old are you exactly? Do your parents not mind sending you on this quest—are they okay with it?"

"I'll be six hundred and twenty two come spring. My father had some reservations on it and we fought each other tooth and nail but my mother was a bit more lenient. She knew that the will of a wizard is not something to be taken lightly." I smile at Gandalf who puffs away on his pipe and ignores my words. Ori stares at me with wide eyes, his quill frozen inches away from the paper.

"Six hundred and twenty two? I beg your pardon but isn't that quite old?" Ori squeaks.

"Elves age much different than a dwarf young master Ori. While you may look upon her as 'quite old', she is young compared to some of her companions." Ori's cheeks are a light pink as he gives me an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry Lady Glemeril. I'll scratch that question off—have you travelled outside of your home before?"

"Once before but that's a tale for another time. I'd best be packing my things now if you'll excuse me." I stand and offer them a quick bow before making a quick exit to my room. It's a lie. None of my things have left their bag except for the hair combs. But the idea of being questioned especially about my parents wasn't appealing right now. The thought of Celeborn being able to see me, surrounded by dwarves was almost amusing. I rest my hand on the doorknob and chuckle.

"And just what exactly is so funny this morning?" I turn my head to find Thorin Oakenshield scowling at me.

"Glemeril have you packed your things yet? Bofur and Glóin have already gone ahead to get some ponies and then we will be on our way." Gandalf comes up behind me, laying a gnarled hand on my shoulder.

"I'm preparing to." I say and break eye contact with Thorin to look at Gandalf.

"Hurry up and see that you do. I will not delay the quest for anything." Thorin warns and with a final scowl makes his way down the hallway. Gandalf stares at me with a steely gaze, his lips set in a thin line.

"It would be wise of you not to mouth off to Thorin." Gandalf warns.

"An elf does not mouth off Gandalf. She says exactly what is on her mind." He sighs and gives me a small smile.

"You both know loss which nobody else will ever be able to understand. Thorin lost his homeland to a dragon. And he lost not only his grandfather and father but also his brother in war. And now I am asking him to put all his trust into a hobbit and elf which he's never met."

"I am not asking that you two become best friends but I do ask that you try to be respectful for the sake of an old man's sanity."

"I will be respectful as I can Gandalf. More respectful than my father would be." I add at his exasperated expression.

"Very well then. Gather your bags and prepare to set out." He sighs and walks off shaking his head. I grab my pack and pause for a moment in the room as I set something on the edge of the bed. I smile at my handiwork and then follow quickly after Gandalf, a smirk on my face.

* * *

><p>As promised two dwarves return with some ponies and horses. One with a floppy eared hat smiles at me as they approach and hands me the reins of one of the horses, nodding satisfied.<p>

"There ye are lass. Even got us a pony for Mister Baggins though I'm not sure the lad will be coming along with us or not." The other dwarf, a redhead with a thick, bushy beard snorts.

"Not likely. He fainted when you talked of a dragon." My eyes flicker over his face and I notice there are a few bright red marks. Peck wounds I realize.

"You're quick to talk about Mister Baggins though it wasn't him who was attacked by a crow last night now was it? For someone who couldn't even handle a crow you speak of a dragon like it's nothing more than a field of flowers." The hatted dwarf lets out a snort and then hoots with laughter as the red-haired dwarf glares at me.

"You were bested by an elf Glóin." The hatted dwarf manages through his laughs. Glóin ignores him in favor of stomping back inside, grumbling beneath his breath. The hatted dwarf rolls his eyes and offers me an easy smile.

"Ah, don't mind him lass. I don't think we were properly introduced last night. The name's Bofur."

"Glemeril." I offer him a smile in return albeit a bit more timid.

"Tell me how did ye end on with this band of dwarves? I'm here because of the free beer."

"Free beer is certainly tempting I must say. Though Gandalf determined I would somehow be useful. He came to my parents I and told us that he had a proposition."

"Oh aye? And what sort of proposition was that?"

"Months of adventure filled with possibilities including treasure, brushings with death, a dragon, mountains and seeing other races."

"Ye haven't seen another race before then?" Something akin to shock comes to the dwarf's eyes.

"No I haven't. I was raised around other elves and my father's got a rather bitter feeling of dwarves."

"Well we dwarves don't have the best feelings towards elves. But if they were all like ye I think I could make an exception." He smiles at me again and mounts his pony as the other dwarves and Gandalf step outside. Thorin leads them, barking orders as the others mount their ponies and settle themselves. Gandalf pauses by my horse and lays a gnarled hand on my shoulder once more.

"Remember your creations must stay hidden for now." He whispers and I nod, patting his hand as he moves towards his own horse.

"And don't mouth off. I know the rules." I mutter as Thorin urges his pony forward and we begin to make our way out of the Shire.

The dwarves fall into easy conversation with each other. Several of them cast doubtful, distrustful looks towards me while others just ignore me and I ride in silence for some time. Eventually Fili and Kili slow their ponies down to ride on either side of me.

"Good morning to you both." I incline my head and the brothers share a look.

"You left your husband all alone." Kili begins and Fili shoots him a glare.

"What my brother means is that your husband left you to go on this quest by yourself. And your hair comb is missing."

"I am aware that my hair comb is missing and Mister Baggins isn't my husband. I simply enjoyed playing around with you two." The brothers share incredulous looks and turn to me with expressions that are torn between shock and anger.

"You mean—you were just." Kili stutters as his brother snorts.

"I guess that's what we get." Fili mumbles and the two share a smile.

"So if Mister Boggins isn't your husband then tell us fair maiden who he is?" Kili smiles up at me.

"Nobody is."

"Ah so we have a chance to win your heart?" Fili winks and leans closer to the saddle.

"An unmarried maiden does not mean her heart is unclaimed." Balin's pony settles alongside Fili's and he gives both of them a hard stare.

"The lass is right and you two should know better than to shamelessly flirt like that." He scolds. The brothers both incline their heads and shoot me apologetic looks as they urge their ponies forward.

"Forgive them lass. They're still quite young by our standards and unfortunately don't always think with their heads."

"It's quite all right. I'm more worried of what their uncle will do to them does he catch them flirting like that. And it takes more than a silver tongue to win my heart."

"You need someone who can handle your mouth." Gandalf teases.

"Gandalf believes I mouth off." I say and Balin chuckles as Bofur turns around, an eyebrow quirked.

"And do you?" He smiles at me

"When the situation calls for it." Bofur chuckles and turns back around.

"Do you think Mister Baggins will be showing up?" Ori asks from somewhere at the front and there's a chorus of answers. A star haired dwarf holds up a small leather satchel and shakes it. From inside comes the jingling of coins.

"Why don't we all bet on it?" He suggests and everyone begins to toss in their bets.

"I say he shows up." I say and receive snorts from several of the company who shake their heads.

We continue on without any sign of the hobbit for some time. Then comes the muffled cries from behind us. I tug on the reins and stop my horse, smirking as I look towards the source of the sound.

"Wait, wait!" Bounding towards us with the contract flying behind him like a flag is Bilbo Baggins. There's an eager smile on his face as he comes to a stop and holds up the contract to Balin.

"I signed it." He hands it over to Balin and gives him a nervous smile as he nods.

"Everything appears to be in order. Welcome Master Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." He winks at the hobbit as he tucks the contract away into his robes. Thorin looks less than pleased as he grumbles.

"Give him a pony." Bilbo's eyes widen and he begins to vigorously shake his head.

"No, no. That won't be necessary thank you. I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I've had my fair share of walking holidays you know." He's cut off as Fili and Kili lift him up and settle him onto a pony. He clutches at the reins awkwardly and struggles to sit up in the saddle. His expression is disgruntled as he gives a halfhearted glare at the pony's mane.

"And Gandalf said I would be the one mouthing off. Tell me Bilbo what on earth did that pony's mane do to you?" I ask and the hobbit sighs.

"Perfectly capable of walking…" He grumbles then his expression brightens as he stares at me. "Oh." He cries.

"Oh, yes?" I ask and he points at me as he digs through his pack.

"This is yours. You left it on the edge of the bed." He holds out the hair comb that I wore last night. I shake my head and close his hand around it.

"Keep it." I say and Bilbo shakes his head.

"No, no I can't keep this. You said yourself it was a courting gift and that wouldn't be okay for me to just take it."

"Mírdan gave it to me yes and it has a meaning. All of them do. I would much rather see this in your hands than in mine. Consider it a gift." Bilbo sighs but slips the comb back into his pack.

"May I ask what the meaning behind it is exactly?" I shake my head.

"I'll explain later." I promise and hold up my hand as leather satchel flies towards me.

"What's that about?" Bilbo asks.

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd show up." Gandalf says.

"And what did you think?"

"Well." Gandalf lifts a hand to catch his own prize. "My dear fellow I never doubted you for a second." Bilbo looks ready to say something but sneezes loudly and begins to sniffle.

"Oh, horse hair. I'm having a reaction." He mumbles.

"No, wait, wait. Stop, stop!" Bilbo shouts and halts the company as he digs through his pockets. "We have to turn around."

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asks.

"I've forgotten my handkerchief." Bilbo's answer is met with teasing laughter and groans.

"Here. Use this." Bofur tears a piece of cloth off his jacket and throws it towards Bilbo who accepts it with a grimace.

"You will have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things too, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire. But home is now behind you; the world is ahead." Gandalf warns and Bilbo looks over his shoulder longingly.

"I don't suppose you've got any handkerchiefs up your sleeve?" Bilbo asks hopefully.

"I've a lot of things up my sleeves but I don't carry any handkerchiefs with me." Bilbo sighs.

"Well I hope whatever you have up your sleeve it's enough to face whatever lies ahead of us in this world."

* * *

><p>Thank you so much to K.C.96, Dhalmi93, Tig442, Kurosnik and GemDragon22 for the follows and favorites! They are greatly appreciated!<p>

Dhalmi93: Thank you and I'm glad you enjoy the character! She demanded to be sassy when I started writing her.


	5. Skinned Dwarf

The inn smells heavily of pipe smoke, food, ale and a little bit of ponies. I wince at the stench and shy away as another person nearly brushes my arm. We've stopped in Bree for the night and Gandalf stands talking to the inn's owner who looks at us all with a shrewd eye. Bilbo leans heavily against my leg and looks ready to collapse as he tries time and time again to dodge the people walking around. Thorin glares around the room as if daring someone to look in his direction, Dwalin scowling right alongside him. The others all stick close together and look at the others with distrust in their eyes.

"You okay there lassie?" Balin asks as I once more shy away from a passing person.

"I'm perfectly fine. I just do not like this place. Too many people." I scan the room, my eyes skimming over the men who stare at me over the rims of their ales. Balin follows my gaze and squeezes my arm with his gloved hand.

"You need not worry. Our race is protective of women." Gandalf turns around with a relived smile on his face, prompting a sigh from everyone.

"We have rooms for the night. I suggest you all enjoy this for I fear it will be quite a while before we are able to enjoy any sort of soft beds. Now go and find us a table. Glemeril, would you be as kind as to help an old man?" Gandalf asks me as the others all disappear into the crowd.

"I'm not a tavern wench so if you're going to have me carry ales or food to the table then no." I say but come to stand next to him anyways.

"You've done well controlling yourself so far and I am proud. Though I ask you please control your temper while we're here. I managed to get you a room to yourself."

"Anyone who knew me from the year I spent here has long since passed. And if people have heard stories of me well that's all they are: stories."

"I hope that's all they remain to be. Go on then and join your companions. I'm off to find us some food and preferably some strong ale for me to deal with the stubbornness of dwarves." And with that Gandalf too disappears into the crowd. I make my way through the crowd of people, my arms held tightly by my side. The dwarves and Bilbo all sit together, talking animatedly at a long table. The only available spot left is between Balin and Bilbo. I plop down between them and sigh, stretching my arms over my head. Balin turns towards me as my shoulders give a satisfying pop and smiles.

"Aye I know how you feel lassie. Forgive me for asking but you mentioned earlier that come spring you would be six hundred and twenty two come spring. Is this your first time traveling away from home?" Across from us Ori perks up and opens his leather bound journal.

"The day after my fiftieth birthday I left home and spent a year away travelling. I was rebelling more or less."

"Rebelling against what?" Kili asks and peers around Bilbo to look at me. I squirm uncomfortably and pull my arms closer to my siders.

"My parents, Galadriel and Celeborn told me that I was adopted. They'd wanted to wait until I was of age to tell me they said because they felt it would be the right time. I ran away from home."

"Where did you go?" Balin asks and there's something akin to worry in his bark brown eyes as he stares at me.

"All over. I spent most of that year shagging humans into their mattresses and helping myself to their wallets as they slept." Beside me Bilbo blushes to the roots of his hair and Dori begins stuttering as he goes to cover Ori's ears.

"I was helping myself to a man's wallet one day and found out that he had a wife and child. When I pressed him for answers he confessed that she was carrying their second. I helped myself to all that was in his wallet and broke his fingers. His wife was given all the money I had and he was no longer a scribe." A couple of the dwarves wince and I see Ori visibly pale as he looks my hands.

"What happened to your real parents?" Kili finally asks after a long beat of silence.

"My mother died of birth complications. And there's very limited information my father so I don't know about him. He could be alive, could be dead." There's a heavy, awkward silence hanging over the table now until finally Ori lifts his head to look at me, his cheeks reddening.

"Pardon me for asking Miss Glemeril but I heard somewhere once that elves don't have premarital…" He trails off, flushing to the roots of his hair.

"Once a couple of my race has consummated their relationship physically they are wed for life. The words: blatant disregard were thrown around a lot the day I returned home." A couple nervous laughs escape the dwarves. The silence though is finally lifted as Gandalf returns to the table, ales in hand.

"What tales have you been telling them that they all look as they've seen ghosts?" Gandalf demands.

"I was telling them of how hobbits are known to skin dwarves before sprinkling them with seasoning to eat them. Taste quite delightful that way."

"Eat a lot of dwarves have you lass?" Bofur laughs.

"Honestly I prefer the taste of ponies but dwarf will do in a pinch. And if we've none of that then I'll settle for hobbit." The dwarves laugh though Thorin scowls at me from down the table. As the table settles back into talking I excuse myself, passing by Gandalf and leaning down by his ear.

"I will be retiring to my room for the night. I bid you goodnight my dear wizard." I whisper and wince as the room practically roars with drunken laughter.

"Is everything okay?" Gandalf asks as he slips me the key.

"It's too much noise and the talk of my rebelling. I can feel the wolf trying to get out and I need rest." Gandalf merely nods, his blue eyes grave as I slip the key into my pocket.

"I will bring you up some food in about an hour. There will be three knocks so you know it's me." I make my way through the crowd and towards a woman who with a smile guides me towards my room.

I had creatures of all shapes and sizes. They came out at different times in different forms. The wolf I had yet to gain control of. It would come when I was stressed and attack anyone who came near me. It paced relentlessly until finally it would lay down, chewing on its paws and glaring at everything. It paces back and forth now, pausing every few moments to growl at the dresser.

"The dresser is not a threat." I mumble from my spot on the bed. The wolf is a muddy black color, its fur long and matted. The eyes a sharp, crystal blue. Was it not for the canines that it loved flashing and the talon like nails, it could almost pass as a pretty creature in the wild. But the nails were a threat, the teeth even more dangerous. I had been witness to the power the creature held and been on the receiving end of its anger. I stare at it now as it flops onto its side and begins to chew on its paws. The first time I'd ever seen the wolf was the day I returned to my home.

* * *

><p><em>The closer and closer I got to the location the more nervous my horse became. It pawed the ground, snorted and practically refused to budge. I stared at the spot on the map and tried once more to urge her forward. She let out a distressed whinny and tossed her head up and down. <em>

_ "Fine, I'll walk the rest of the way." I grumbled and tethered her to a tree. With a final pat I moved towards my birth home. It had taken countless attempts. Countless drunks and sifting through tale after tale, story after story and legend to find this place. It had been even more difficult to find a map with the location. _

_ For a while there had been forest. Trees filled with birds chirping and the occasional deer. But then the forest had slowly started to thin out and the animals had become less and less until it was just me and my horse. And now it was just me. And the forest seemed to be thinning even more. I wasn't sure what I expected when I came to the end of the path but it wasn't what I stared at. _

_ Houses, stores, stalls were all destroyed. If the wood hadn't been torn apart, charred beyond repair or hadn't collapsed then it was rotting. Any food that had once occupied the stalls had long since been picked apart by animals or been left untouched and spoiled. Toys, dolls and blocks, wooden figures were burnt or trampled and splintered. Covered with dirt and dried blood, damaged by years of exposure. Unmarked graves decorated the hillside like flowers. Some were marked, chicken scratch etched onto their meager headstones. Others had been dung up, the bodies either left out or put back in. But as I walked I noticed there were several sun bleached skeletons that decorated the ground. _

_ The only house I dared to go into was the one with bodies scattered all around it. Skeletons laid all around it, sun bleached and lacking limbs. Inside was not much better. Dried blood spattered the walls. The skeletons in the room occupied every corner. A pair of rusty scissors sat alongside a bowl of water filled with murky, maroon colored water. On the bed was a body. Among the sheets covered with dried blood and what else I didn't want to imagine there was a body. _

_ "I did this." I whispered and gasped as a wave of guilt swept over my shoulders. My knees shook and then gave out as I fell forward. Tears pricked my eyes and my hands shook as I clutched my head. The tears flowed freely as I looked at the skeleton occupying the bed. I wanted to remain like that forever. There on my knees with tears streaming down my cheeks and a numb feeling that consumed my chest as a roar like water filled my ear. I was okay with remaining that way forever. And I would have were it not for the wolf. _

_ When I heard the growl I turned around with a start. The sight of the wolf with its hackles raised and fangs bared had me scrambling for my bow. With a whimper I realized that my bow along with any other hopes of protection had been left with my horse. I was staring down the wolf and braced myself for death as it inched closer and closer. _

_ I'd been attacked by my creatures before: pecks, bites, scratches, punches, cuts. But compared to the wolf I knew these would be nothing. Compared to the pain I felt surrounded by the destruction I caused it would be nothing. I closed my eyes and waited for the bite, the scratch, the blood flow. It never came. There was a yelp of pain and as I opened my eyes I saw a flowing white gown and long, golden hair. The wolf laid in a heap on the floor and growling halfheartedly. _

_ "Go to your father." My mother didn't look up from her task. I laid there on the floor, my eyes wide as she lifted a hand._

_ "Naneth…" I whispered. _

_ "Go to your father Glemeril." She repeated and her voice was harder. I stood up and ran from the house, past the bodies and destroyed houses. I didn't stop even as I heard the wolf's yelps of pain. I didn't stop until I had slammed into my father's chest. I didn't realize I was crying until he sighed and pulled me to him. I shook and sobbed as I clung to him. His hand rubbed small circles on my back and eventually the sobs subsided into hiccups and then into nothing as I passed out. We rode home to Lothlórien in silence with a new creature following behind us every few miles._

* * *

><p>I wake up with a start to three sharp knocks on my door. My face is wet and I realize with a sigh that I've been crying again. Creatures occupy every corner of the room. The crow perches atop the dresser, cawing dryly at the wolf that paces and growls. Sitting beside it is a raven, its talons too sharp and far too long, digging into the wood as it anxiously flutters its wings. Among them are other creatures carrying deformed limbs, growling or biting at the others who get to close to them. I lay back down with a sigh and pretend not to hear Gandalf's voice as he tells me that's going to leave the food outside my door if I get hungry. One by one the creatures disappear, even the wolf who stares at me with its sharp eyes. When I'm alone in the room once more I finally step outside and go to pick up my tray just to find myself staring down Thorin Oakenshield who stands outside his own door. There's a long beat of silence as we stare at each other, unmoving. Finally Thorin nods at the tray of food.<p>

"You should eat and get some rest. We plan to depart early." And with that Thorin goes into his room and closes the door.

"I'd rather have a feast of skinned dwarf."

* * *

><p>Sometimes I think I'm funny. Thank you so much to pure1ruby; cassiellie; PunkMutantGargoyleChica and Sparklemuffinz for the follows and favorites! They are greatly appreciated! Who else is counting down the days to the Battle of the Five Armies and bracing themselves for the pain we are going to endure?<p>

CrazyFanGirl18: I'm glad you're loving it! And Thorin won't be such an asshole in later chapters. Nor will Dwalin. They will have some sort of weird bonding thing. Somehow I will make it work.

Dhalmi93: You're welcome and yes he really is!


	6. Nameless Race

My room is in shambles when I awake the next morning. The dresser has been clawed at, the sheets and blanket shredded and the mirror shattered on the floor. I say nothing about it as I slip downstairs, plunking some gold coins on the inn keeper's book before making my way towards the stables. I prepare my horse with a foggy mind, my eyes bleary as I lead it from the stable and wait in front of the inn. I lean heavily against its neck, remaining like that even as the dwarves begin to drift out of the inn, carting their own ponies from the stable.

"No sleep?" Bofur asks as he passes me.

"I slept. Got a lovely twenty minutes in." I grumble.

"Going to sleep in this position all day?" Gandalf's amused chuckle reaches my ears as he settles his horse next to me.

"I'll be able to take the first watch if I do." I nudge my horse forward as Thorin orders us to move out.

"Plagued by nightmares again?" Gandalf asks.

"It was a combination of nightmares and memories of the accident. It left my room in a lovely condition." I smile at this, earning a snort from the wizard.

"I saw the condition you left your room in and I suspect you left the inn keeper something for the damage?" I nod and begin to drift off against my horse, my cheek brushing its mane as we continue on.

"Excuse me Gandalf," Bilbo's voice reaches my ears through my haze. "Glemeril gave me this hair comb the other day and promised to explain the meaning. But I—I don't want to bother her right now. And I was hoping perhaps you could explain it." There's a humming from Gandalf as he examines the comb and then a pleased chuckle.

"Ah it would make sense that she would choose the sparrow of all things. Sparrows though small are not simple creatures. They will use their great numbers for protection and power and work together to achieve a goal." I open my eyes to see Bilbo staring at the comb with a new gleam in his eyes as he tucks it away.

"Did you meet the man who made them? Mírdan?" Bilbo continues.

"I was lucky enough to meet young master Mírdan. Quite a remarkable young elf I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Everything our young Glemeril is he's not." There's a chuckle from the wizard as I throw a rude hand sign. "Now, now Glemeril no need for that when it's the truth."

"I know it's the truth but Bilbo don't you believe anything he tells you. Besides Gandalf, Mírdan likes his women fiery." I open my eyes to the sight of Bilbo's cheeks flushed pink as he looks back and forth between us.

"That's a contradicting statement." Gandalf's amusement only grows as he winks at me.

"If you hadn't been around in my childhood so much I wouldn't think twice about letting a wolf swallow you whole."

"For Mahal's sake how can you two be so chipper in the mornings?" Dwalin grumbles, shooting us both a glare.

"This isn't being chipper. This is me attempting not to kill the next thing that moves."

"Always a charmer Glemeril." Gandalf mutters. I send him a final smile and return to my former position of leaning against the horse. I sink into the steady rhythm of the horse walking, wrapping my arms around its neck as I fall asleep.

I remain like that all day until Thorin calls for us to stop. I sit up, my neck lolling back and forth as I pop it. I stretch my arms over my head as I dismount, limbs stiff and aching.

"Sleep well there lass?" Balin comes up beside me.

"Yes indeed I did. What task has our great leader assigned me tonight?" I look towards Thorin who watches over the camp as the company dismounts, collects firewood and ties the ponies up.

"Thorin has a certain—I would call it fascination with you and so does my brother. You're an interesting creature lass." Balin continues, ignoring my first question.

"Fascination or distrust?" I ask.

"Both. Some members want to get to know you better. The younger ones for instance who've not seen elves before are interested in you while the older members, the ones old enough to remember the fall of Erebor are distrustful. Because of a certain king's actions." Balin's eyes darken.

"King Thranduil, I met him once before. It wasn't a very pleasant meeting. I don't recall much from our meeting only that it ended with me spitting in the king's face." There's a snort of laughter from behind us and I look to see Dwalin's face a mask of indifference. But as I stare at him I notice the two spots of pink dotting his cheeks.

"Thorin wants you and me to collect firewood." Bilbo says, coming up to my side. I give my horse a final pat and hand the reins over to Balin, following after Bilbo. When we're out of earshot he turns to me, eyes wide.

"Did you really spit in the king's face?" Bilbo demands.

"Yes and I can't say that I feel one bit sorry about it." I smile at the hobbit who looks stunned.

"Whatever did he do to make you so angry?"

"Have you ever heard Bilbo of the nameless race?" Bilbo's face is thoughtful as he mulls the name over in his head but he shakes his head.

"I can't say I have. What are they exactly?"

"The nameless race was a race of men, elves and dwarves gifted with a power to create monsters with their minds. Don't ask me what kind of monsters. It all depended on the person themselves and what they intended to use that creature for. Some used them for protection, some companions and some—some used them for darker purposes."

"You speak of them as if no more exist—what happened to them?" Bilbo asks.

"Well that's the thing. When a child of the nameless race was born, man, elf or dwarf it didn't matter. Their minds hadn't matured enough to yet control their gift. An entire family could be slaughtered by a temper tantrum. While they were babies and children they had no ideas of what they were doing. But a lot of times the people around them wanted the families to send the child away for fear of injury or death."

"And did they?"

"Most of the times they did. If a family didn't or refused to then the child was killed, ran away or sometimes an entire town would perish from the monsters. There were settlements far; far away from others in which people of the nameless race lived. Thy learned to control themselves, learned crafts and in some cases stayed there their entire lives. Others left as soon as they'd learned to control themselves."

"They were called the nameless race because nobody ever managed to get near their settlements that weren't one of their kind. If they got too close they were chased away, threatened or in some cases injured to get the point across that outsiders were not welcome. There were a lot of settlements a long time ago. But speculations started from towns who had claimed to have seen the settlements before. Their towns were plundered by orcs or goblins. And they all began to say it was the nameless races doing and they'd been the creator of the orcs, goblins, trolls and all the foul things that lurk in this world. They said it was revenge for the way they'd been treated."

"An army was assembled and the settlements were attacked. Burned down, destroyed, they were determined to destroy the race."

"Did they kill them?"

"Not at first. They knew better than to attack head on and instead would wait at night until everyone was sleeping. Then fires were started to cause a panic and they moved in to capture them knowing nobody would be able to focus or to think while trying to save their families or their homes."

"Some were killed where they stood. Others were taken prisoner and sold to royalty or to slavers. One by one each of them just kind of wilted away. Without any will to live, their families gone and their homes destroyed the nameless race just faded out of existence."

"Are there any more?" Bilbo asks me. I let a long, slow smile spread across my face as I shake my head.

"No, there's none left."

* * *

><p>Sorry for not updating for a while there. I have a cold right now and just feeling sorta blah because of weather and lack of sleep. Anyways, I own nothing but my character and the nameless race. Thank you so much to EquusGold; chichi41; Elizamaria; ; DarknessMakesMeSmile and potter-granger-mad for the follows and favorites.<p>

Dhalmi93: I honestly don't know who I am pairing her with yet. I'm playing with people and so far she has demanded to flirt with Bilbo more and more. But I want to let people give me their opinions and see who they want as well.


	7. An Ideal World

"You never told me why you don't like Thranduil." Bilbo says as we seat ourselves, bowls of soup in hand.

"He was one of those who believed the nameless race deserved to die and praised that it's now an extinct race." Bilbo's eyebrows furrow as he stares at me. I'm saved from any more questions by Gandalf who comes and settles himself next to Bilbo.

"Ah, so I see that Glemeril told you about the nameless race?" Gandalf smiles at us.

"Yes she did."

"It's a tragic thing for an entire race to be wiped out all because of fear." Gandalf's face is solemn.

"Mister Balin told me about the nameless race once. But there aren't many books about them. Any knowledge about them is limited because they were so secretive. Did you know any of them Mister Gandalf?" Ori asks as he wanders away from the fire.

"I had the pleasure of meeting a couple. And you are correct Ori; I sometimes believed they were more secretive than dwarves. But if you were able to get near them and hold a conversation I found they were quite enjoyable and I found that I had nothing to fear with being around them."

"What happened to the last person of the nameless race? Do you know?" Ori continues.

"The last person of the nameless race to be seen alive was a woman who died of complications at birth. There's been speculation over the years about if her child survived or not. And where that child just might be if they are alive."

"What do you think?" I ask, leaning around Bilbo to look at Gandalf.

"I think that if that child is alive somewhere I think they don't wish to be found out. For fear of being discovered or for fear of rejection I do not know." Gandalf gives me a look from beneath his bushy white eyebrows before he settles back and resumes eating. There's no more talk of the nameless race after that. The dwarves trade songs and stories; some of them speaking rapidly in a rough, guttural language. As they talk their gazes drift towards Bilbo and I. Most of the time they shake their heads and return to their conversation.

"Seems we're being talked about." Bilbo mutters from his spot next to me.

"Well what would you like to talk about Master Baggins?" I ask.

"I would be interested in hearing what your life in Lothlórien is like perhaps. If you wish to tell me that is. Or tell me about your family."

"My life in Lothlórien was lonely. I remember not having friends. Other children were scared of me it seemed and tried to avoid me. If we encountered each other on a path the children would turn and run away from me. I wasn't alone exactly."

"There was always someone watching over me. My mother and father or another elf. But the others who watched me didn't want to play. If I was able to convince them they would be stiff and keep distance between us."

"What about Mírdan? Tell me about him." Bilbo seems almost desperate for the subject change, his expression guilty.

"As Gandalf said earlier he's everything I'm not. He just has this ability to make me smile. He's creative and a gentle soul. But he's not one to be crossed in battle." Gandalf chuckles as he puffs on his pipe, winking at me as before he turns towards Bilbo.

"He's a fierce warrior Bilbo. But I've also seen him squish Glemeril's cheeks between his hands and kiss her." I throw him a dirty look as I feel the telltale signs of a blush on my face.

"Gandalf feels this need to remind me of embarrassing moments. But he forgets I have dirt on him. Need I bring up the dress incident?" This sends him into a coughing fit as he chews on the end of his pipe. "Thought so." I grin and turn back to Bilbo.

"Well then…" Bilbo trails off, staring at me with wide eyes. I smile at him, giving his shoulder a squeeze as I stand.

"Sleep now little burglar. You will need it." I move off towards a boulder. I scale it and then sit atop it, my legs crossed.

"Glemeril, what are you doing?" Bilbo calls.

"Night watch, goodnight now Bilbo." I call over my shoulder. Bilbo sits there for a moment longer before shaking his head and muttering as he strides forward. He stops at the base of the boulder, hands on his hips as he stares up at me.

"Should I help you up?" I ask and earn a huff from Bilbo.

"It would not be proper of me to leave you alone on night watch….Without a companion to talk to or…" Bilbo trails off, his cheeks reddening as his stomach gives a loud grumble.

"Would you like some more of my bread?" Bilbo's cheeks darken more as he mutters a small 'yes please'. I slide off the boulder and grab my pack, digging out some Lembas bread which is handed off to Bilbo.

"One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man so be careful how much you eat." Bilbo stares at the bread with a somewhat nervous look as he takes a tiny edge off the bread.

"Thank you." Bilbo gives me a smile, looking towards the boulder with almost longing look.

"Come on and join me if you wish." I return to my spot, Bilbo trailing after me. It takes some maneuvering but Bilbo finally scrambles up with the boulder with flushed cheeks and an irritated expression as the dwarves chuckle.

"You'll find your place soon enough," I say casually, ignoring the startled look on Bilbo's face. "I spent nearly one hundred years looking for mine."

"And where did you find it?"

"In Rivendell with Lord Elrond and his family. I'd been used to the other children avoiding me in my childhood but there, my niece and nephews were fascinated by me. They were older than me but…They were the first friends I had."

"Lord Elrond? You're his children's aunt?" Bilbo's eyes widen, his expression one of wonder as he stares at me.

"Indeed I am but they're so much older than me that it's more like cousins. Elladan and Elrohir call me auntie though. I met them when I was about one hundred and I remember looking up at the twins and them tapping me on the head, screaming 'you're it' and running. We played hide and seek together and the safe spot was one of the fountains. I used to hide between the bookshelves for hours reading because I knew the spots they wouldn't think to look."

"Did Lord Elrond have books on the nameless race? Is that how you know so much about them?"

"My parents gave me books to read and Elrond had a few books as well." Bilbo hums, pulling his knees to his chest. He looks at me thoughtfully and goes to open his mouth just to snap it shut. "Ask it." I encourage as he worries his lower lip.

"What do you think they're like? The nameless race?"

"It depends if you mean the person. I think some; the ones who were terrified of their power wanted nothing more than to be normal. They probably hid themselves and even when the pain got really bad they don't say a word because they're scared. The ones who used their power for good want for the simple things."

"They don't care about possessions and how rich they are. They want to be accepted by their society and have families. They want to help and love. They just want Bilbo. And sometimes they get what they want—other times they don't. But they always hope and they always want."

"The ones who used their powers for bad wanted to be feared. They wanted to be powerful and have the world under their thumbs. They experiment and think little of the price that comes with their experimentation. They want to stretch their powers to the limit and earn respect from those around them. But in the end they just want to the control of having people fear them."

"I imagine they...I think they all want to be accepted." Bilbo's voice is quiet, his brow furrowed as he stares down at his feet.

"Yes, I do. I want to have a world where my creations, my monsters aren't locked up in cages. Where I'm not poked and prodded at by people who use us as entertainment. I don't want to see people running from me because they're scared. For people to not look at me and say 'you poor thing' and think of me as a 'sin against nature'. That's what I want Bilbo." I whisper and slip an arm around his shoulder, pulling him flush against my body. Bilbo's eyes are wide as he stares at me, his mouth open.

"I want a world like that." I squeeze his shoulder. Bilbo raises a hand, hesitating as he brings it down to rest on top of mine.

"Me too."

* * *

><p>Thank you so much to Roser av Ild; ocmanda; Aurora101; Kage Kitsun and animecrazygirl1 for the follows and favorite! It's greatly appreciated! Now Bilbo knows...I just can't stop them from flirting and being all cute...<p>

DarknessMakesMeSmile: All the dwarves hold a special place in my heart and the Durins...Ugh. I have a plan for her and Beorn for when we reach the second part of this story. And she and Bilbo...They keep flirting.


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